Midnight Exposure Read Online Free PDF Page A

hurl herself back into his arms and sniff his neck again.
    His truck was parked at the curb. He retrieved a red metal toolbox from the open cargo area, closed the hatch, and followed her up the brick walk onto the porch. He reached around her toopen the door. As his arm brushed hers, the heat in the lobby burned Jayne’s face.
The heat, right
.
    Mae wasn’t in sight. Bill was walking from the rear of the house, his arms stacked with wood, his face pink as if he’d been outside. He shrank as Jayne stepped through the door and hurriedly dumped the logs in their holder.
    “Reed!” Bill’s eyes lit up as he looked past her. Keeping a wary eye on Jayne—or rather on her boots—he rushed forward with the speed and size of a linebacker when Reed entered. Jayne moved out of the way.
    “Hey, Bill.” Reed accepted the hard hug with grace and what appeared to be genuine affection.
    “Excuse me,” Jayne said, “I have to change.” She ducked for the hall and hurried up the steps. Both men would likely be glad she left. Bill because she somehow made him uncomfortable, and Reed because he probably thought she was nuts.
    Behind her, Bill sounded as excited as a grade-schooler. “Mom wants you to fix the back door. Can I help, please?”
    “Sure you can.” Patience filled Reed’s easy drawl, and Jayne felt a smile pull at her face, despite the incident outside. Reed Kimball wasn’t just sexy, he was kind. Kind in a way that made him even sexier. As if his chiseled face and broad shoulders didn’t already make her toes curl.
    Her self-defense classes had taught her to trust her instincts, but they were way off base today. Reed Kimball must think she had a screw loose for her behavior outside. Hopefully he’d give her the benefit of the doubt. There was something about him that didn’t quite tally up. The Southern lilt didn’t match the local accent any more than his too-sharp gaze belonged on a handyman. And she couldn’t ignore the fact that physical contact with the man made her crave things she’d forgotten about.
    Hot, sweaty, naked things.
    Their voices faded. Jayne fished in her pocket for her key, but when she caught sight of her door, she stopped. Her hand rose and splayed at the base of her throat. The dark wood was covered with dozens of small white symbols. Jayne’s neck quivered as she touched one of the lines. Fine powder came away on her finger. Chalk.
    Graffiti? No, the weird symbols looked primitive, like hieroglyphics. Crude Trinity Knots. Spirals. Wagon wheels. A few other more complicated emblems she couldn’t make sense of. Some of the signs were repeated.
    “Is something wrong?” Mae hurried down the hall, a stack of towels in one arm. She frowned at the door. “What on earth?”
    Before Jayne could answer, Mae wiped the emblems from the wood with rapid-fire sweeps of a towel. “I’m sorry. Bill can be childish at times.” She left Jayne standing in the empty hall staring at the now-clean door like she was in an episode of
The Twilight Zone
.
    What now? Go in like nothing happened?
    She checked the door and her breathing relaxed when she found it still locked. A quick sweep through the room assured her nothing had been taken. Weird. Had Bill really drawn on the door like a kid? Those marks hadn’t looked like aimless scribbling, but Mae was probably right. She should know. Had Jayne really been followed today? The odds were against it.
    Jayne peeled off her wet jeans and yanked a dry pair out of her bag. She had good reason to be paranoid. There’d been one warm summer night when she hadn’t listened to her base instincts. When the back of her neck had itched just as it had today. When she’d felt something was wrong but convinced herself otherwise.
    Being dressed, dry, and warm didn’t erase the goose bumps from her arms. A hand strayed to her cheek. Her scar stung as thewords mouthed across a courtroom cut across her memory, sharp as a knife point in tender skin.
    You’ll be sorry.